Promises to Keep
by Mandy of the Amoeba
Summary: MollyArthur Weasley fanfic. Just a couple of missing moments from Order of the Phoenix.
1. Default Chapter

A/N: As most of you well know, I love writing in little missing moments from the lives of characters. This takes place after the boggart scene with Molly in Order of the Phoenix. I do plan on writing a second chapter to this that will take place Arthur is attacked by the snake. Enjoy! And if you do enjoy, review!

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After twenty-five years of marriage, Arthur could almost always tell when Molly had been crying, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. He knew in a moment when he walked into their bedroom at Grimmauld Place after the Prefect celebration party and caught sight of her reflection in the damaged mirror as she brushed out her hair. Her cheeks had a slightly blotchy flush to them, and her eyes were a bit puffy; he'd wager she had been crying hard earlier, but had stopped and pulled herself together in hopes that he wouldn't notice.

She glanced up momentarily at his entrance, looking at his image in the mirror and offering a wan smile before averting her gaze, trying to appear intent on her brushing as he changed into his pajamas. She wished he would just go to bed and not question her; she wasn't keen on telling him about her earlier problem with the boggart. She wasn't keen on reliving the experience, either; it was bad enough to see her loved ones dead in her dreams without having to see them lying broken in front of her very eyes. Unable to stop herself, she closed her eyes and shuddered slightly, then jerked, startled, when Arthur laid his hands on her shoulders; she hadn't even heard him walk up behind her.

"What's wrong, Molly?" he asked quietly, rubbing her shoulders lightly as he watched her in the mirror, his own image somewhat distorted by the crack near the top of the glass. She forced a smile and shook her head, standing up from the worn bench in front of the dressing table.

"Nothing, dear. Just a bit tired, is all." As if to emphasize her point, she covered her mouth and stifled a yawn as she headed towards bed, hoping her husband would accept her answer as the entire truth and leave things be. 

No such luck. Arthur stepped forward and caught her arm gently, pulling her to face him. He put one hand under her chin to tilt it up so that she had to look at him as he studied her face. Normally, Molly didn't keep much from him; they were best friends as well as husband and wife, and neither one was all that good at keeping secrets from the other. Of course, Molly had been a little more closed off towards him since the whole incident with Percy; most times lately, if he had found her with evidence of crying on her face and she had refused to give him a reason for it, he would have chalked it up to the Percy issue and left her alone. But something was different tonight; this had not been a Percy cry. 

"Molly, please," he pleaded softly, holding her gaze. "What's the matter with my girl, eh?" She didn't answer, shaking her head slightly and pulling out of his grasp. Arthur racked his brain, trying to think what on Earth could have happened in the short time between Molly leaving the little party downstairs and coming up to bed. As she was about to crawl under the covers, it suddenly hit him. "Did you have trouble with the boggart?"

He saw her flinch, and knew he had hit upon the right answer. Instead of getting into bed, she sat down on the edge of it with her hands in her lap. She knew she wasn't going to be able to get out of this conversation. "It was nothing, Arthur," she insisted, but her voice was quiet. "Just...I just had to have a little bit of help with it, that's all."

Arthur sat down beside his wife, reaching to hold one of her small hands in his large one. He was silent a moment, wondering what it was that Molly had seen that was so hard to get rid of. Then again, Molly had never been very good at dealing with boggarts. If there had ever been one subject that was especially hard for Molly to broach, even with her husband, it was her own fears. Perhaps it was because Molly was fearless about a lot of things, and that made the fears she did suffer all the more acute. She was so unaccustomed to dealing with her own demons that when she was forced to face them head on, she wasn't always able to handle it. "I shouldn't have let you go after it alone, Molly. I know how you...well, I know you," he finished, hoping that she didn't find a reason to take offense to his statement. It was never easy to tell with her.

"I know you do," she answered quietly, resting her head against his shoulder. He breathed a queit sigh of relief; all the fight was gone out of her tonight, and although he loved her spirit, they had their best talks when she was calm like this. 

Molly closed her eyes as she leaned against her husband, suddenly feeling worn out and tired, as though all the events of the summer, both wretched and wonderful, had suddenly caught up with her. Arthur released her hand from his grasp so that he could put his arm around her, and they stayed like that for a long moment, resting against one another.

"Do you want to talk about it, love?" he finally asked, breaking the silence. She breathed out a heavy sigh.

"I'm just so frightened, Arthur," she murmured in reply, shaking her head a little against his collarbone. "It's just...it's not fair. It's not fair that we fought for so long before and lost so much, only to have to go through the whole thing all over again..." Fresh tears were welling up in her eyes, and she tried hard to keep them from spilling over.

"It won't be as bad this time, Molly-girl," he reassured, hoping he sounded more confident to her than he did to his own ears. "We all suffered losses last time, but we still have each other, and the children--"

"Yes, but they were just babies then," Molly interrupted, her voice beginning to sound a little thick with tears. "Now they're all nearly grown up...Bill and Charlie in the Order...the twins trying to be adults when they're still children--"

"They're of age, Molly," he interjected softly, but she continued.

"--and Ron and Ginny! I'm proud of all they've come through, Harry and Hermione too, but it worries me so...and Percy..."

"Molly," Arthur said in a soft warning tone. She stopped speaking, but instead began to sob quietly. "Oh, Molly, don't," he begged tiredly, pulling her into his embrace and letting her cry against his chest. "Please don't..."

After a few more minutes of Molly crying and Arthur trying to shush her, her sobs trailed off into sniffles, and she raised her head to look at her husband with red-rimmed eyes. "And...and you being in the Order, Arthur...it's just...it's just too much," she whispered, barely trusting her voice to get the words out. "If anything ever happened to you..."

"Nothing's going to happen to me. Or to the children, or to you," he reassured firmly. "We're going to pull through this, Molly." She offered him a watery smile, and he smiled back, kissing her forehead gently. "We can pull through anything as long as we're together. And we're going to be together, you hear me?"

"Promise?" Molly asked, her brown eyes still bright with tears. She knew it was a childish thing to ask, just as Arthur knew it was a childish thing to promise. There were no guarantees for them.

"I promise," he answered nevertheless, meaning the words with all his heart. He smiled at her again. "I love you, Molly Weasley, and you're stuck with me for good."

Unable to keep from smiling back at him, Molly threw her arms around her husbands neck and hugged him tightly. He held her close, burying his face in her hair and breathing her in. And again, he repeated in a whisper, "I promise." 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to write this...although I don't think anyone was particularly waiting on it. Still, it's finished now. Hope you enjoy! Please review!

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Molly Weasley's heart had been in her throat from the moment the loud clanging chime of the grandfather clock downstairs in the Burrow had sounded that night. She had only heard that sound a handful of times in her life, and each time, it sent an unearthly chill through her bones. She had rushed downstairs, nearly fainting right there in the living room floor when she saw that it was her husband's hand pointing to 'Mortal Peril'. After that, everything became a blur; she had read the note Albus Dumbledore sent as soon as it came, read it over again until the words were swimming in front of her eyes. More owls came, from the hospital, from the Order, and then somehow she had ended up in the waiting room of St. Mungo's, staring at the mediwizard blankly as he told her that Arthur had been badly injured, that they were having a hard time getting him stabilized. The words seemed a dull hum in her ears as the healer talked, and she heard him say that she wouldn't be allowed in to see Arthur just yet because he had to be operated on right away. She kept nodding in understanding, even though she didn't really understand at all, didn't understand how this could be happening.

"Mrs. Weasley?" the young wizard talking to her called, and she blinked at him, realizing that she hadn't heard his last couple of sentences. He looked at her with sympathy; she vaguely felt like punching him in the nose. "Mrs. Weasley, would you like to use a hospital owl to get in touch with your children?"

"Oh. Oh, yes," Molly murmured in reply, nodding again. "Yes, I would." She followed him to a room filled with about a dozen or more owls; there was such a room on each floor, if she remembered correctly. She scrawled out a note to the children at Grimmauld Place, one to Bill, one to Charlie, and one to Percy before going back to the waiting room.

It couldn't be happening, not like this. Arthur had promised. A part of her wanted so badly to cry, but she knew that if she once got started, she wouldn't be able to stop. Besides, she was mostly numb. There was this horrible aching deep in her chest that made breathing a bit difficult, but other than that, all her senses seemed blurred. She wouldn't let herself think about what would happen if he didn't pull through; he had to pull through. They were going to be together through this whole thing...he had promised.

She didn't even realize that Bill had walked in until he was sitting down beside her, and she nearly jumped out of her chair when he first laid a hand on her arm. "I came as soon as I could, Mum," he said quietly, his eyes filled with concern. Suddenly, Molly felt very old. Her eldest son was all grown up, sitting beside her looking at her sympathetically, with an air about him that said he knew he had to watch over her. She just stared at him, not saying a word until he finally asked, "Have they said any more about Dad?"

"No, not yet," she replied, forcing a weak smile. It faded very quickly. He rubbed her back absently with one hand, and she stiffened slightly; his treatment of her was suddenly making it that much harder not to cry. Somehow, he seemed to understand, and he removed his hand, letting it rest on the arm of his chair. There was a long few minutes of silence before either of them spoke again.

"Did you owl the others?" Bill asked abruptly. Molly nodded silently, her eyes straight ahead. If her other children had been there, she probably would have been trying to put up a more talkative front in order to reassure them that their father was going to be all right. But she was finally beginning to think of Bill as more of an adult; he didn't need that sort of reassurance from her anymore.

"I was hoping Percy would be here soon," she commented absently. Bill sighed a little.

"Mum...I don't think Percy--" he began, but she cut him off.

"He'll be here. I don't expect Charlie to come, at least not right away, but Percy lives right here in London. He still loves his father," she said, and her voice cracked on the last sentence. She bit her lip hard, turning her face away from Bill, who cleared his throat a little uncomfortably.

"I'm going to go see if I can find out anything else." he said, standing up from his seat. She nodded quickly, still not looking at him. "Will you be all right here by yourself for a bit?"

"Of course, Bill," she replied, swallowing the lump in her throat and forcing another weak smile. He leaned over to kiss her cheek, patting her shoulder as he did so, then exited out into the hall.

He hadn't been gone more than thirty seconds before the same young mediwizard came through the waiting room doors; Molly was on her feet before he even started speaking.

"Mrs. Weasley, you'd better come see him now. The wound won't stop bleeding, and they're giving him a Blood Replenishing Potion, but there's a chance it won't take effect quickly enough, there's nothing more we can do right now..." She wasn't listening to him; she hadn't really heard a word after his first urgent message that she go to see Arthur. Later, she wouldn't be able to recall how she managed to find where he was; no one showed her, because she taken off at a run down the hall before the mediwizard even finished speaking. Yet somehow, she had made it there, into the room where they had operated on Arthur. There were still a few mediwitches and wizards standing around, but the Healer who seemed to be in charge motioned them all to leave for the time being.

Arthur looked as white as the sheets he was lying on. Somehow, Molly remembered being told earlier that he was losing a lot of blood; she could see the bandages wrapped around his chest and shuddered at the thought of the monster that had done this to him. Carefully, she took his hand in hers and sat down on the edge of his bed.

"You've gone and gotten yourself into a right mess now, haven't you, Arthur?" she said shakily, reaching to smooth back some loose strands of hair from his balding forehead. His skin was clammy, and his fiery red hair looked out of place against his too-white skin. "I can't keep you out of trouble all the time, you know," she added with a choked laugh. His stone-like face didn't respond; even his lips looked white. Molly's face crumpled suddenly as hot tears began spilling out of her eyes.

"You promised, Arthur," she whispered, a little angry but mostly broken. "You...you _promised_ me that we were going to be all right."

Her husband still lay motionless, and a quiet sob escaped her as she lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it. His hand was large and thin compared to her small, plump hands, and at the moment, they were also very cold. Absently, she began rubbing his fingers as she cried, instinctively trying to warm his skin. After a moment, her sobs subsided, giving way to sniffles as she calmed down.

"Bill's here, Arthur," she told him, somehow hoping that if she just kept talking, he would have to hang on to life in order to listen to her. "And I've...I've sent an owl to the other children. All of them," she added quietly. She lapsed into silence for a moment before starting in on another topic, her voice still wavering slightly. "It...it's getting close to Christmas, Arthur. I haven't quite finished all the jumpers...I've just been so busy with everything. You...you'll have to get out of here soon, love, because I want us all home for Christmas."

The minutes ticked on with no response. The sensible side of her knew that rest was really the best thing for him at the moment, but her heart needed some reassurance. She needed a sign, even a small one, that he was going to pull through.

"Please, Arthur," she pleaded softly, her voice low. "The children still need you...I need you, Arthur. You remember your promise? Our promise...please tell me you remember."

At first, she almost didn't notice the movement of his hand; it was slow, almost imperceptible. But suddenly, she realized that his fingers had weakly curled around hers, and a flood of relief rushed through her. She fervently pressed her lips against his hand again, and tears of joy began spilling down her cheeks.

Bill walked in a few moments later, his face grave. His mother looked up at him, eyes shining, as he came to stand beside her, one hand resting on her back.

"He's going to be all right, Bill," she announced, smiling. He sighed quietly.

"Mum, they...they still don't know. I just talked to one of the mediwizards. They said they won't really know if the potion took effect for at least another hour..." he said gently, but Molly interrupted him with a stern voice.

"Bill Weasley, don't contradict your mother. He's going to be fine," she added, her tone satisfied. Still smiling, she looked back down at her husband; maybe it was only in her mind, but she believed she could see some small hints of color returning to his cheeks.

"We promised."


End file.
